The Next Great Adventure
by Vickie1996
Summary: Violet Potter was a special little girl who died in a cupboard beneath the stairs. However, no one, not even Violet herself, was expecting her to open her eyes again. This is the story of the Girl-Who-Just-Won't-Die and how she doesn't have time for the voice in her head. She had so much to learn about magic! Fem!Harry story, manipulative-but-not-evil-Dumbledore!
1. Prologue

It was a quiet morning when Violet died. The weather was mild and many were still in bed, dreaming of dreams which would soon be forgotten. They had no knowledge of the girl's death, could not even begin to understand the consequences of such an occurrence. For whilst they slept in their beds, having gone to bed content, if not happy with their lot in life, Violet Lily Potter was curled up tight in her cupboard, beaten and starved and in so much pain.

Violet had only lived for 7 short years, had barely even experienced a childhood, let alone a lifetime. Abandoned on her Aunt's doorstep on a cold Halloween night, she had been locked away and feared, a stain upon her Aunt's family and reputation. Number 4 Privet Drive, the house she would die in, was all she had ever known, all she remembered. Her cupboard was her sanctuary, the kitchen her place of work, and the restroom a privilege she had to earn. The rest of the house was forbidden to her. So, as she closed her eyes that morning, having been deprived of sleep from the pain, she was ready to sleep forever.

However, this girl was a special little girl. This girl had already survived death once. This girl, little more than an infant, had looked upon a man who feared death, yet yielded it with a natural skill. This girl had looked death come upon her and smiled. Though the tales tell it differently, this little girl died. Her heart stopped beating and her brain had stopped working. Yet her soul refused to move on, despite her Mother's beckoning. No. This little girl was special. This little girl opened her eyes.

Now, as Violet's heart ceased to beat once more, she could not remember her last death. She smiled, once again, and was ready for peace.

Unfortunately, as bright green eyes opened and her heart started to beat again, the girl realised she would never know peace again.

...

Petunia Dursley was a good housewife and a good mother. Her beautiful boy, her precious Dudley, was the pinnacle of a well-bred and healthy lad. Her husband was a strong and ruthless business man, bringing home an adequate wage to support her family's position of comfort. Her house was always tidy, decorated in the latest fashions, much like her neighbours. They were seen as a proud family, normal in the very best ways which suited suburban living. However, Petunia Dursley had a secret, one she was loath to share. One she found abandoned on her doorstep. One with her sister's eyes.

Lily Evans had always been well-liked; by her parents, by her peers, and, once, by her sister. With an infectious smile and a kind heart, Lily had always stolen the attention from her elder sister. However, they were close as sisters could be until she realised how … abnormal … Lily was. She could do things no one had the right to do, making flowers bloom in the dead of winter, making mirrors and windows shatter when her temper flared. It wasn't until _the letter_ came that she had proof that her sister was different. And by God, did Petunia wish she was different too.

A letter written in desperation and hope had been sent to the kindly and magical man, headmaster of her sister's new school. Whatever hope she had faded when she received the reply. That was when Petunia realised, properly, that she wasn't special. She wasn't beautiful or particularly clever. She wasn't magical. She was just Petunia. Plain Petunia. As Lily returned with tales of her adventures, of classes, of spells, Petunia saw her sister in a new light. She saw her sister learning to do abnormal things, things that could change the very nature of people and things. What Lily saw as pranks and jokes, Petunia saw things that could harm. Petunia saw the danger.

The longer Lily's letters came, the more Petunia could read between the lines. The brief mention of a conflict in politics became a war before her very eyes, ink and tears retelling her sister's fears. Petunia wanted nothing to do with that world. Even when Lily picked that world over her sister, over her family, Petunia refused to even mention that awful, abnormal world. The distance between sisters grew and became ultimately fractured when her parents died. Freak accident the coroners and police said. A terrorist attack, her sister said. Magic had killed her parents and Petunia had wondered how long it would take before Lily met the same fate.

It was 4 weeks.

Petunia Evans had lost her entire family within a month. She had made herself a new family, of course, years before her sister's death. Marrying a young but stalwart Vernon Dursley and becoming a mother herself had eased some of the spite within Petunia's heart. But Petunia Evans was not Petunia Dursley. Evans was a spirited young girl who loved her little sister and wanted to be just as special. Petunia Dursley was proud of her normality, proud of her little family. Dursley was good and normal and _safe_. Nothing could endanger that.

But then a little girl with her sister's eyes turned up on her doorstep and Petunia Dursley was scared. Scared for her family, scared for her sister and scared for the normal life she craved. A letter had briefly described her sister's death, alongside her sister's husband. The letter ordered Petunia to care for Lily's daughter, to love her, to keep her safe. But Petunia Dursley was scared and she did what many fearful people did. She locked the thing that scared her away, out of sight and out of mind, and ran to her husband.

Vernon Dursley was just as scared but Vernon never ran. Oh no. Vernon faced his fear and set out to beat the thing that scared him into submission. Perhaps too well.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley looked down at the little girl, bruised and broken. Her chest wasn't moving and she lay unnaturally still. As Petunia raised a shaking hand towards the girl's wrist, searching for a pulse, she was both disappointed and relieved. The girl, Lily's girl, who had so much danger underneath her skin and behind her eyes, was gone. She could no longer pose a threat to her family and she never would. However, this was Lily's girl and she was dead. Dead at her husband's hand. Petunia didn't know what to do, didn't know how to feel. She sat frozen, the girl's wrist lay limply in her bony hand.

Vernon Dursley was not as numb as his wife. His mind was whirling, perhaps faster than it ever had before. He had little sympathy or regret for the brat's death. In fact, he was glad that those large eyes, eyes that saw straight into his soul, would never open again. However, he needed to get rid of the girl's body lest the authorities take affront. Whilst he hatched plot after plot, a small, silver device in Scotland had stopped spinning. It had stopped dead.

...

Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore appeared outside Number 4 Privet Drive and broke the door down, shattering the quiet of the early morning. What they saw would forever burden both men for the rest of their life. Violet Potter, too small for her age, lay broken beneath the feet of a reddening Muggle. Her body was twisted in a strange way, having been dragged out of the cupboard she had died in. Snape, clad in the darkest of blacks, held the muggles at wand point whilst Albus walked slowly toward the girl, tears blurring his eyes, and proceeded to wave his wand over her. He diagnosed that she had been dead for hours, alone in the dark, probably scared and in so much pain. He gathered the girl in his arms, tucking her head against his chest and wrapping her exposed body in her bloodied blanket. A blanket he recognised from that awful Halloween night.

Whilst his employer had restrained the muggles, Albus endeavoured to take the girl to Hogwarts, to the hospital wing where she would have the dignity and respect she deserved in death. The Ministry could be alerted tomorrow and the muggles could be dealt with then. For now, there was a little girl who deserved comfort in death.

Later that night, whilst Severus Snape kept vigil at her side, Violet opened her eyes. She looked around the bright room, white and clean and with so much space, and smiled.

* * *

 **AN:** Hey guys, this is my first attempt to write fanfiction in a looonnnggg time, so try to be nice? (Unfortunately, all my previous attempts at fanfiction will not be un-abandoned, as I have no interest in trying to salvage ideas and muses from years ago). I've just finished my Bachelor's degree so I have more free time than I've had in years. I thought I'd take up writing again. Let me know what you think!

 **Preview for the next chapter -**

To say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement. Whilst he had been keeping vigil beside Lily's daughter, begging forgiveness from a distant memory, Severus Snape had watched something truly miraculous. Bright green eyes, _her Mother's eyes_ , Snape thought, opened wide and a smile had lit up the girl's face. Struggling to sit up with her body so damaged, the girl looked around with unbridled curiosity. Turning toward him, Violet looked momentarily confused. Then, in a quiet and lilting voice, she asked, 'Are you Death?'

As stated previously, to say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement.


	2. Chapter 1

To say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement. Whilst he had been keeping vigil beside Lily's daughter, begging forgiveness from a distant memory, Severus Snape had watched something truly miraculous. Bright green eyes, _her Mother's eyes_ , Snape thought, opened wide and a smile had lit up the girl's face. Struggling to sit up with her body so damaged, the girl looked around with unbridled curiosity. Turning toward him, Violet looked momentarily confused. Then, in a quiet and lilting voice, she asked, 'Are you Death?'.

As stated previously, to say Severus Snape was surprised was an understatement.

'You're not dead', the pale man drawled, trying to hide his shock. Violet was shocked too, to be honest, she thought for sure she was dying. Looking around at her surroundings once more, she noticed other beds, all of them empty apart from her own. The sheets were a blinding white; a colour she did not see often in the confines of her cupboard. She had never been in a new place before and was eager to find out more. However, she wasn't sure what the rules were for this new place and she knew not to ask questions. Questions were punished quickly and firmly with the belt.

Violet watched the man who was still staring at her. Violet stared back. After a few moments had passed, he stood up quickly and took out a long wooden stick. Flinching, thinking he intended to hit her with it, she buried herself closer to the mattress. Absently, she noted that the bed was the comfiest thing she had ever lay on and perhaps the beating wouldn't be so bad if she could continue to lay here.

Another few moments passed. Slowly, cautiously, she opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, looking upon the man. He was frozen, his face even more pale, if that was at all possible. With careful and precise movements, he raised his hands, a universal sign that he meant no harm. The stick was still in his hand and his knuckles were white where he held it. Violet relaxed some, as it seemed he had no intention to hurt her yet. It was only a matter of time, she thought quietly, before she made a mistake.

Taking a step away from the bed, the man put the stick away inside his clothes. They were black and long, almost like a dress. As he muttered a quick, 'Stay there and do not move', the black cloth swirled around him, cutting an intimidating figure. The wooden door at the end of the room slammed shut and Violet was left alone.

With the man's warning in mind, Violet settled down and waited for his return. The pain in her body was receding, she noticed happily and the ache in her head, something that had ailed her for as long as she could remember, was missing. Therefore, Violet Potter was happy, for the first time in a long time.

However, what Violet did not know was that, in the quiet of her mind, something long dormant was awakening. Dark and dangerous, this … thing … was unfurling itself from slumber, knowing on some instinctive level that it had come close to death. This was an unsettling event, the thing acknowledged, as the very purpose of its existence was to avoid Death's call. Whilst his girl slowly fell into a peaceful sleep, the thing stretched and grew, no longer bound by the magical restraints that his girl had subconsciously held in place for so long. The thing was weak for now, but in time it would grow strong. For now, it waited.

...

Albus Dumbledore did not even consider running when Severus Snape had appeared into his office, his face uncharacteristically flushed and stuttering about Violet. Summoning Fawkes without a word, he had flashed into the hospital wing. Hoping that his Potion's Master Spoke true, a spark of hope was rekindled within him.

In front of him lay Violet Potter. However, it was not the broken and pale little girl who he had carried in his arms. She was not laying stiff and facing toward the ceiling as he had left her, unable to look any longer at his failure. No, the girl who lay in the bed had curled into herself, a piece of the sheet clutched into her bloody hand. Her chest was rising and falling, deep in sleep. And, perhaps most astonishing of all, was her body. Still small, thin and frail, she was dwarfed by the hospital bed. The ugly bruises and cuts were gone and if it weren't for the blood covering her body, it would have looked as if they had never been there at all.

Albus had seen many things in his long life, witnessed feats of magic that some would claim impossible. Yet watching Violet Potter live once more was something he couldn't even begin to grasp.

'Albus?' The Headmaster turned to the voice behind him and watched the Potions Master draw near. 'Please tell me you understand what has just happened. Were we mistaken, was she alive this whole time?'

Snape didn't seem to believe what he had just said. After all, it was a rare day indeed when Albus Dumbledore made a mistake of such significant proportion. Furthermore, Snape had seen death first-hand, had even been the cause of it during his days serving the Dark Lord. He knew Violet Potter had been dead. Yet, sure enough, the girl still lived.

'Perhaps Severus, it was just not Violet's time to die,' Albus suggested, his voice soft. Whilst his heart was lightened and overjoyed that the girl yet lived, his mind was overwhelmed. Not only had he left Violet in such a hazardous situation, one that had led to her death, she would no doubt carry the psychological scars of her upbringing. This is not what he expected of the prophesised hero of the light. He expected a happy little girl, brave and kind like her parents, eager to fight the dark. Yet, it seemed as if Violet had only known darkness.

With a heavy heart, Albus Dumbledore lifted his wand and cleared the blood and grime off the child. Spell after spell the headmaster recited and he could not fathom how she had returned to life. It was as if she had never been hurt at all. Still suffering from obvious signs of malnutrition and neglect, she would have to be under constant supervision for the time being. Somewhere safe and somewhere _light._ He could not risk the Girl-Who-Lived to fall into the hands of someone not loyal to his cause.

Unfortunately, as there was no way of returning Violet to her relatives, her custody would be decided by the Department of Family and Children's Welfare. Albus had very little power within individual Ministry departments and because of the special circumstances surrounding Violet's fame, the matter would be kept under wraps by the Ministry. Merlin forbid the public here of this outrage. It would probably set Muggle-Wizard relations back a few centuries.

'Severus, I would ask you keep this to yourself, for Violet's sake of course.'

'You don't honestly mean to send her back, Albus!' Snape snapped, a sneer forming.

'Not at all my dear boy.' Snape flinched at that, as Albus knew he would. How very disappointing that Severus could even think he would put a child in purposeful danger. 'However, it would be dangerous should anyone find out about this particular incident. We will merely inform the relevant authorities that, upon my annual check-up of the child, we realised that she was being neglected and we saw fit to remove her from such a situation.'

Snape was angry. Strike that, he was furious. 'Annual check-up?' he said, incredulously. 'Albus, if you had thought to check on her at all, this would never had occurred in the first place! You have done this child, Lily's child, a disservice. How dare you think I will make light of her abuse to save your own reputation!'

Sighing, Dumbledore sat down heavily in a nearby chair, still watching over the child. 'It pains me, very much, that you think I do this for my reputation. For Violet's sake, no one must know of this ability. How long before someone wants to see if it can be replicated? How long until they wonder if this was a one-off event? Severus, I must beseech you to heed my warning. What we have witnessed must remain between the two of us.'

'And the child?' Snape asked.

Dumbledore sighed. 'I suppose that shall be answered when she wakes.' Conjuring another chair beside himself, he gestured for Severus to sit. Another flick of his wand and two hot chocolates appeared, laden with cream and marshmallows.

'Hot Chocolate, Severus? After all, we should be celebrating. Violet Potter lives once more.'

Severus Snape scoffed yet sat gingerly in the chair, eyes never straying from the small figure on the bed. _I will do better, Lily,_ he thought to himself, _I will protect your child from every harm._

* * *

 **AN:** Sooooo, what do you think? Not much here, really, but it's enough to get going. The fun stuff begins soon! How will Violet react to magic and Hogwarts? Will she forgive Dumbledore for leaving her with the Dursleys? Will Snape keep his promise? Find out soon!

Preview for the next chapter –

'I think you have the wrong person,' Violet said quietly, refusing to look up from her hands, 'I'm just Violet, nothing special'.

Severus Snape, the man who many believed had a suspicious lack of heart, felt his tighten painfully within his chest. Before him sat a little girl, a girl who had come back from the dead, who believed she was not worth the attention they paid to her. _Well_ , Severus thought, _I intent to fix that_.


	3. Chapter 2

When Violet awoke next, she was being watched over by two men. The man who she had believed to be death had resumed his place at her bedside and the other was an old man, with a long white beard and bright blue eyes which he hid behind half-moon spectacles.

'Good morning, Violet. Or should I say good evening? I'm afraid, my dear, that you have slept most of the day away.' The old man smiled kindly at her yet Violet jumped as if she had been spooked.

'I'm very sorry, sirs! I never meant to fall asleep, I shouldn't have kept you waiting! I'm sorry!' Pulling the sheet tighter to herself, she tried to make herself appear as small as possible. She didn't know who these people were or why they had stolen her away when she was sleeping. She couldn't even begin to know why they had let her sleep in a very comfortable bed. However, the old man's smile dimmed just a little and he reached out a hand to hold Violet's own. She flinched, thinking he intended to chastise her, yet he just held it in his wrinkled hand. She blinked up at him in shock. She couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her without hurting her.

'It is no bother, my dear girl. You must have needed the sleep.' Again, he smiled gently at her and his eyes twinkled once again. She idly wondered if smiling so often hurt his cheeks and if his twinkle hurt his eyes.

They all sat in silence for a while, Violet slowly uncurling from her position, little by little, as nothing had happened so far. The man in black was sat very still, as if any sudden move would break the peaceful silence.

Looking at her hand, the one the old man held, she wondered what he would do if she curled her fingers around his, as if he were her blanket, as if she didn't want to let go. Currently, she let her hand lay limp in his, just lying there, unassuming and not drawing attention. Whilst she was pondering the hand in hers, the old man spoke again.

'I suppose you must be wondering where you are. Well, that has an easy answer. We are currently sat inside a very magical castle, a school of magic, if you will, called Hogwarts. This is the hospital wing, as you may have guessed, where we treat students who are ill.'

Violet slowly drew her hand away from the man. Magic? Magic didn't exist. Uncle said it again and again. When she was very little, she used to listen to Aunt Petunia tell Dudley stories about a fairy godmother who helped Cinderella go to the ball. For weeks, Violet had whispered pleas into her pillow for her fairy godmother to rescue her. One day, Vernon had caught her. After that, she had never asked to be rescued and Aunt Petunia had never told Dudley another fairy tale again.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed the old man carry on.

'I am the Headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore, and my acquaintance at my side is Professor Severus Snape, who teaches potions. When you are eleven, you will, of course, be welcome to study at Hogwarts. Until then, we will see about some other living arrangements. Perhaps with a family with other children for you to play with? Would you like that, Violet?'

Violet, who still refused to look up at the men watching her, mumbled quietly, 'Magic s'not real'.

Albus Dumbeldore, it seemed, was not to be deterred.

'Nonsense. Magic is indeed real and I promise you, Violet, you are a Witch. A practitioner of magic. Just like your mother and father.'

'I think you have the wrong person,' Violet said quietly, refusing to look up from her hands, 'I'm just Violet, nothing special'.

Severus Snape, the man who many believed had a suspicious lack of heart, felt his tighten painfully within his chest. Before him sat a little girl, a girl who had come back from the dead, who believed she was not worth the attention they paid to her. _Well_ , Severus thought, _I intent to fix that_.

Albus, however, was smiling at the modest girl before him, his eyes twinkling kindly.

'Have you ever done anything, when you were angry or scared, has anything odd ever happened around you?' the headmaster asked, as if the answer were obvious.

Violet bit her lip and shook her head. Her heart sank as she realised that they definitely were mistaken. She idly wondered when they would send her back to the Dursleys. She'd be in so much trouble when they realised she'd left!

'Whilst it is rare', Snape interrupted her thought process, 'for children your age to not display any accidental feats of magic, it is possible your magic is busy doing other things,' he paused here, trying to find the words that would cause the least alarm. 'Your injuries have healed in mere hours, unassisted by our magic or muggle means. That means it was your magic working to fix what was done to you.'

Severus Snape, she learned, did not smile and did not twinkle. But his words were not harsh. Neither were they soft. They just were. Looking at her arm, which had once been covered with an ugly dark bruise as large as her Uncle's hand, she noticed it was bare. Just her pale skin, unmarked, lay atop the sheets of the bed.

Her brows furrowed. How long had she slept?

'If you still do not believe in magic,' the pale man said, 'then I simply will have to prove it. I have little time for your disbelief, so watch closely, child.'

Staring at him in anticipation, Violet watched in awe as he waved his stick and butterflies flew from its tip. Eyes wide with delight, her hands raised to touch them, to see if they were as real as they appeared. Feeling the soft wings flutter against her fingers, she felt something she was not familiar with. Hope.

...

Watching the girl smile was different than when she had awoken. As she rose from her deathbed, she had smiled as if she were at peace. It was both more and less than happiness. Now, however, playing with the butterflies, her smile stretched from ear to ear, a laugh lingering at the edges of her lips. It was beautiful and brimming with joy and Severus felt himself trying to fight a smile. Then he remembered a smile just as infectious in his youth and the threat of such memories wiped the smile clean from his face,

'As you can see,' he said suddenly, startling the girl, 'magic is indeed real. Any questions?'

Dumbledore chuckled lightly next to him, 'I must apologise for Severus, my dear girl, for he is too used to being a teacher I fear. But if you do have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.'

The girl was obviously overwhelmed and not a single question passed her lips. Not looking away from the butterflies, who were lazily spinning in circles before her, the girl seemed to wilt before his eyes.

'I can assure you, child, that you have magic and it has healed you from the damage you suffered. Now, I know this will be hard for you, Violet, but this is very important. I need to know just what you remember from this morning. Do you remember, Violet?' Dumbledore asked.

Snape froze next to him. _What was the old fool playing at?_ Violet, too, had frozen at Dumbledore's question. What happened next, no one could have predicted.

The candle on the bedside, which had been flickering and lighting the area around them, suddenly blew out, along with every candle in the hospital wing. With a whispered _lumos_ , Severus watched as the wind grew heavier and caused havoc. The curtains flew madly in many directions and Dumbledore struggled to keep his cap upon his head. The unoccupied beds were rattling where they stood and the cabinets beside them were shifting with the force of the gale.

In the middle of it all was Violet Potter, her eyes wide and wet with tears. Curled into herself, she watched in fear as her magic raged. Severus, unable to stand her fear, gathered her into his arms and settled onto the bed. She froze even more, stiff and scared. The windows suddenly shattered around them and if it weren't for Albus' quick shield charm, they would have been cut to ribbons.

Whispering soothing words to the girl and rocking her slightly, Severus had never before wished Lily was alive. It felt like hours before the winds died down and the girl relaxed somewhat into his arms. The hold was awkward, neither used to physical contact, yet after his whispered 'I swear, Violet, I will never let another harm you. I swear it,' the wind had stopped completely. Severus felt her grow heavier in his arms and slump against his chest and looked down to see her eyes closed and her breathing even out.

Raising his head, he glared fiercely at Dumbledore. 'I do not know what you hoped to achieve by asking her to relive her own…' once more he looked at the child and hissed ' _death'._ He took another breath, trying to calm his own racing heart.

'I was not intending any distress, my boy, but we cannot ignore what has happened. Before we can organise suitable accommodation for Violet, we need to ensure she and her magic, is settled from the abuse it has sustained.'

...

Hours had passed and Dumbledore looked toward the pair, still holding on to one another. Severus had been too cautious to release the girl, wary of waking her from what seemed to be a peaceful slumber. He had briefly considered leaving the girl in his care. Yet it would be impossible. He needed Severus' connections to the Death Eaters to remain unquestioned and by supervising the Girl-Who-Lived, both of them would be in danger. _And_ a little voice in the back of his head said _we can't be sure of his loyalty._ It was true, Severus was loyal toward Lily first and foremost and then her child. Dumbledore may have promised him a fresh start, but they both knew it was not simply out of charity. Severus had an advantageous position within Voldemort's ranks that could not be ignored. It was due to that position that Dumbledore would be forced to separate the two.

It would be a hard decision, on where to place Violet. The Weasley's would be an obvious option, completely loyal to the light and the Order. Plus, they had children around Violet's age which should allow her some semblance of a childhood before Voldemort eventually re-emerged and began his war anew. However, the monetary issue was always prominent and Violet would need more attention and supervision than a mother of seven could provide. The girl's magic, no longer focused on healing her body, was obviously too strong and unstable to be left unattended.

Perhaps Minerva? But she had her teaching responsibilities and no matter how fond she was of him, he doubted she would follow his order to take time out of teaching to focus solely on raising the Girl-Who-Lived. She would of course suggest he go about the legal channels, but he knew he could not. The Ministry was corrupt and whilst it worked in his favours many times before, there was a chance she could end up in the grasp of a greedy politician or socialite. Or worse, a Lucius Malfoy type who would undoubtedly raise the girl dark or hand her over to his Lord when the time was right. No, the decision must be a careful one. Better yet, it would be better if Severus had no memory of the circumstances of the girl's retrieval.

Looking toward the pair, Albus sighed quietly to himself as he saw Severus asleep, still holding the girl carefully. Tugging on his beard a little, a nervous habit of late, he regretfully raised his wand and with a quick _obliviate,_ Severus no longer remembered his sudden attachment. _For the greater good,_ he thought. Of course, it was harder than it appeared, for Severus' occlumency shields were undoubtedly strong. Yet Albus had always had a keen grasp of the mind arts and believed he had done a good enough job.

...

Tomorrow, Severus Snape would wake in his quarters at Hogwarts and remember that he had been up late all night brewing, potions which were now unusable because Albus had interrupted him mid-stir. Something about Potter's brat and her relatives. Sverus cared very little about what had occurred and was more interested in making up for lost time in brewing today.

Tomorrow, Violet Potter would wake in a cosy little room in a magical house in Devon. There she would learn all about the great wizard, Albus Dumbledore, who had saved her from her awful relatives. She would learn that she was magical and that she had defeated a dark lord as a baby and would grow up strong enough to do it again. Violet Potter cared very little about playing with the children which would be her new family and was more interested in learning everything she could about this magical world she found herself in.

Albus Dumbledore would stay up all night after delivering Violet to the Weasley's, along with a promise of a living allowance for the girl. Furthermore, he had engaged a contractor to build upon the Burrow and make it safer for all the residents. He also had looked into a tutor to teach Violet and to supervise her magical outbursts. Remus Lupin, who was indebted to Dumbledore for allowing him a place at Hogwarts and who was very close with the girl's parents was the perfect choice, even if it was for only 3 weeks of the month.

It would be many years until Dumbledore realised the mistake he had made and until then, he was satisfied with his new plans. For now, let Violet learn the makings of a hero among family and he would get involved again when she had come to Hogwarts.

* * *

 **AN:** She spends her childhood with the Weasley's! Yay or nay? Honestly, I don't intend for this to be a Weasley bashing fic or a Ron!bashing fic, but we're all aware of Ron's jealousy issues so don't judge me too harshly!

 **Preview of the next chapter –**

Scabbers the rat had lived with the Weasley family for 6 long years. He was fed and pampered and whilst the devil twins pulled at his tail and experimented on him when he was too slow to run away, he was always rescued by his red headed boy who looked after him. Scabbers was quite comfortable with his situation and felt he was quite safe from the consequence of his actions during the war. That would change when one day, a little girl with Lily's eyes sat down at the breakfast table. With a face like James' mother, aristocratic and almost elfin, along with her long black hair, the girl looked nothing like Lily. She looked nothing like James either. In fact, one could say she looked almost like Sirius. Sirius Black, who always thought he was better than Peter, who had the girls throw themselves at him, who had James' and Remus' respect and love. Peter hated the girl.

It was a few days after the girl came that his nose picked up a familiar and dangerous scent that would change his comfortable way of life as Scabbers. The smell of wolf.


	4. Chapter 3

Violet was pretty sure she was in shock. Or hallucinating. Maybe both. It had to be something she ate, or perhaps Uncle Vernon had punched her too hard. That was it! She was dreaming. Dreaming of magic and red-heads and a house which seemed like it should fall over. However, dreams don't usually last a week and the noise seemed very real. The smells from the kitchen were also making her mouth water, which had never occurred before in a dream. She heard the mother, Mrs Molly, yelling for the identical pair to behave whilst trying to wipe the mouth of the only other girl sat at the table. Little Ginny Weasley. The girl had not stopped looking at her with big brown eyes, a blush staining her cheeks, since she arrived.

Mr Arthur and Mrs Molly had explained to her what she had done as a baby and how everyone was so very thankful. They said she was a hero and that she must be very brave and always do the right thing. Violet wondered what the right thing would be to do in such a situation as this one.

You can imagine how disconcerting it is when one wakes up, whisked away from abusive relatives, and is suddenly thrust into a large family of very noisy red-heads. And magic. Can't forget the magic. Violet, safe to say, was overwhelmed at the Weasley household. Unfortunately, it seemed that when Violet was overwhelmed, she had a bad habit of blowing things up. Or breaking things. Or lifting things … people … off the ground. Mr Arthur explained, quite kindly, mind you, that it was her magic getting used to being allowed to stretch. He said no one should let a little girl or boy grow up in a cupboard because it was cruel. Violet guessed her magic didn't like being locked away either. Yet it had never reacted when she lived with the Dursleys and she couldn't begin to guess why.

She was sat at the breakfast table for the first time since she arrived (having been allowed some time to recover, alone, in the room she shared with Ginny). Arthur had already left for work, so there was Bill, the biggest and the quietest. He was helping Ginny cut up her bacon and sneaking the eggs, which she didn't like, onto Ron's plate. Charlie was the next biggest and he was talking about Quidditch to his little brothers, who hung onto his every word. The pair of red-heads who looked exactly alike were Fred and George and they were twins. Sometimes they got confused about who was who. Violet supposed they had forgotten. Ron was the youngest boy and was currently being chastised by Percy, who saw it his duty to be the most well behaved and his Mother's favourite.

Violet had yet to speak to any of them and had overheard Mrs Molly this morning speaking to all the children, warning them from over-crowding her and not to push her to talk or play. Whilst Violet appreciated the warning, she was growing anxious with them whispering among themselves and looking toward her whenever they thought she wasn't looking.

That was not to say living with the Weasleys was bad. She had eaten more than she could remember, even if she had to take a potion that was foul smelling before every meal. Mrs Molly said it was so her belly wouldn't hurt after not eating for a while. Violet guess that made sense. Today, she had promised herself to speak to at least one of the children. She had watched them from the window, playing games in the garden and, best of all, flying. She had dreamed of flying for so long and now it was a real possibility. With another potion she took before bed, she started to dream of flying her own broom with the children all laughing behind her and letting her play with them. She was glad she never dreamed of the Dursleys. They were like a bad dream, completely distant from the reality she found herself living in now.

Violet, with a suborn tilt to her chin and a bravery that came from years of getting up each morning despite knowing she would hurt even more by the end of the day, asked Charlie to explain Quidditch to her. Apparently shocked she had never heard of the sport, he began an enthusiastic lecture, with help from Fred, George and Ron, whilst she tried to keep up. When an argument started a little while later about the better team, Bill came over and whispered that he could maybe it explain it in the garden if she liked and show her his broom. Happily, if slightly wary, Violet followed him and thought to herself that this place wasn't that bad after all.

...

Scabbers the rat had lived with the Weasley family for 6 long years. He was fed and pampered and whilst the devil twins pulled at his tail and experimented on him when he was too slow to run away, he was always rescued by his red headed boy who looked after him. Scabbers was quite comfortable with his situation and felt he was quite safe from the consequence of his actions during the war. That would change when one day, a little girl with Lily's eyes sat down at the breakfast table. With a face like James' mother, aristocratic and almost elfin, along with her long black hair, the girl looked nothing like Lily. She looked nothing like James either. In fact, one could say she looked almost like Sirius. Sirius Black, who always thought he was better than Peter, who had the girls throw themselves at him, who had James' and Remus' respect and love. Peter hated the girl.

She had been secreted in by Albus Dumbledore in the early hours of the morning, whispering to Molly and Arthur that the muggles, Lily's sister, who had demanded they care for Violet, had been neglectful toward the poor girl. The old man had said he could think of nowhere better to raise a child into a good, upstanding member of the community. A family is what she needed, unconditional love.

Yet, Albus Dumbledore had his demands. Wards were to be put upon the place and Peter got anxious. Anti-animagus wards would forbid him from leaving, which he had taken to doing every so often on the summer nights after Percy had returned home from his first year at Hogwarts. Peter had not enjoyed his time at Hogwarts. Whilst he had fond memories of him and his friends, he was faced with the reminder of his betrayal. But they had betrayed him first! They had always been closer to one another! James and Sirius would gladly leave him behind if they didn't feel guilty and Remus was adopted instantly into the pack, despite being a werewolf! But Peter knew, deep down, that Remus could be just as dangerous as Fenrir, had watched Sirius abuse that. Perhaps they thought little Peter Pettigrew weak. Well, he showed them.

Hogwarts, then, became a place of bitterness for Peter and he had to always watch his tail for Filch's thrice damned cat. He swore he saw McGonagall eyeing him as he hurried along the wall at night, eager to stretch his legs from being cramped into a book bag and pockets all day. Therefore, he was enjoying the summer respite at the Weasleys, even if he had to live with the girl now. It was not like he saw her often. Percy did not know how to act around the broken little doll, who would sometimes stare at the children for hours yet not engage in conversation or play.

She was particularly close to Bill, the eldest, who she would follow around whenever he was nearby. Ginny, who was fond of her biggest brother, was delighted that THE Violet Potter thought her favourite brother was her favourite too. Ginny would sit quietly for a while, before wondering off to her more active brothers, as Violet whispered questions to Bill and watch Bill gently answer them. He was careful not to touch her, the whole family was, in fact. After Molly Weasley had grabbed her in a hug and the entire living room was destroyed, they became wary of physical contact. Yet, Violet would shift a little bit closer to Bill each day and he would protect her from the rowdiness of his siblings in turn. Peter wondered if she would cry when he left for his last year at Hogwarts. He almost hoped she would.

It was a few weeks after the girl came that his nose picked up a familiar and dangerous scent that would change his comfortable way of life as Scabbers. The smell of wolf.

Honestly, Peter had always been fearful of Remus and his condition. It was of no surprise that his animagus, an ability he insisted on learning alongside the more talented Sirius and James, was a rat. Back then, he would never have even suggested betraying his friends. He had always sought their approval and would never go behind their back. Thus, the rat hadn't seemed like a perfect fit. But Peter was afraid, afraid of the werewolf hidden inside Remus, afraid that if he couldn't run fast enough, he'd be dead. Or worse.

So, with escape in mind, he underwent the process of becoming an animagus and became, what he considered, the best animal of all. Small, uncensored and great for sneaking and escape, Peter became the best Marauder to plant pranks in hidden places. He also got good at sneaking into the girl's dormitory, which didn't ward against animagi, and brag to James and Sirius that he had accomplished what neither had. Sirius had dared him to steal Lily Evans underwear for James but James had put an instant stop to the fun. He had forbid Peter from doing something so foolish and perverted again. He had blamed Sirius for his bad influence.

However, it had been years since Peter had needed to flee and he had gotten used to the safety and relative comfort of the Burrow. So, you can imagine his surprise when none other than Remus Lupin, his only friend who was alive and free after the war, knocked on the door, claiming he was here to tutor the girl. Hearing he would be staying close by made the fur on Peter's back stand on end. What would happen once a month? Would he lurk through the forests of Devon unattended and feral? Would he recognise Peter?

He had taken to hiding as Remus visited, who was slowly making a cautious friendship with the broken little girl. Scabbers stayed close to Percy, who was unimpressed that Fred, George, Ron, Violet and Ginny were receiving tutoring before Hogwarts when he had received very little. Although he hadn't said as much, Percy had struggled the first months at school and as he was not very talented in making friends, he stayed in the library, determined to become better and smarter. His brothers were always checking up on him, and a few Ravenclaws joined his study sessions and helped him learn to put together an essay, how to take notes effectively and how to properly find books in the library. It was Penny Clearwater who had become Percy's first friends, with blonde hair and blue eyes, usually squinted over a book.

Since Remus arrived, Percy spent most of his days in his room, writing letters to Penny and reading through his books again and again. Peter, content to laze about on the windowsill, wondered how long this could last. How long until Remus recognised his scent and sent him to Azkaban? How long till he embraced Sirius with open arms, despite Sirius not trusting Remus, thinking him the traitor and spy?

Peter had best start making some contingency. Hopefully, he could hide until they went back to Hogwarts. He could make a better escape there.

* * *

 **AN:** You may have noticed the chapters are pretty short, but I prefer this style than over loading the chapters. Violet is settling in, somewhat, and has taken a shine to Bill. Remus is now in the picture. We'll be seeing more interaction between Violet and Remus in the next chapter as Bill, Charlie and Percy head off to Hogwarts.

 **Preview of the next chapter –**

Violet had rushed to her and Ginny's room the moment they had returned from the train station. Bill wouldn't be back till Christmas and Violet was scared. Bill was the best at explaining everything and she stopped her scratching her arms whenever she was nervous. He also was the best at stopping all of the other children from being too loud and rowdy. And he was gone! She felt lonelier than ever before. At least at the Dursley's, she had never known friendship. To know he had left willingly made her heart hurt.

In the quiet of the room, she closed her eyes and lay there, not sleeping, but dozing. It was then she heard a whisper. It was the same whisper that she heard in her dreams sometimes, soft and crooning. It called her special. It called her friend. It said she could never be lonely because it was always right there.


	5. Chapter 4

September the first was fast approaching and Bill Weasley was worried. Not for himself, of course, although he was nervous about his upcoming NEWTs, but for little Violet Potter. Since she had arrived, a few days before Ginny's sixth birthday, she had been quiet and closed off. Fearful at even the loudest noises, she had kept herself to her room for the first week of her stay. His parents had explained to Bill, Charlie and Percy that the muggles that Violet was kept with weren't taking care of her properly and were scared of her magic. Therefore, they were going to raise her themselves.

Percy had not been fond of the idea, bringing up issues such as expense and living arrangements. However, his Mum had instantly shut Percy down, mentioning that doing what was right was not always easy and they wouldn't have to tighten their belt too much, so to say, as Violet's parents had put aside money for her care. Charlie wasn't so much concerned as he was confused. He didn't know how to react to a child like Violet, who was nothing like any of his siblings, even Ginny. He was willing to talk with her and always made the offer for her to join their games, but Violet was not easily engaged and preferred watching over partaking. Sometimes she was selected as referee, even though she never picked a side, even if she had witnessed some impressive fouls (Fred and George were becoming more inventive as the days went by).

Bill, however, felt only pity for this child. He had a dorm mate at Hogwarts who had a childhood a little like Violet's. His family were very religious muggles and had taken the news about Elijah's magic unkindly. Although they never abused him physically, he was ignored and banished from the dinner table, called a demon and a devil worshipper. He had even confessed, as they lay in his bed, holding Bill's hand tight after a nightmare, that they had taken him to a priest to 'get rid' of his curse. Bill was righteously furious and asked what the priest did. Elijah never responded to the question and would stare into space blankly, rubbing at his covered sleeves.

He wouldn't call himself experienced in dealing with children like Violet, but he had learnt patience in these situations. He provided quiet and space whenever she needed so she didn't feel crowded, which was necessary, especially after hearing about the cupboard. Bill didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking, bringing her to their home. Surely there were others available, able to give her proper care.

The first day she sat down to breakfast, his parents had warned that Violet may not be up to speaking, or playing, or anything that the children like to do. She needed to feel comfortable in their home and that meant making sure she wasn't nervous or frightened. However, when she strolled down to breakfast, she just watched them all curiously. In fact, Bill rather felt like she was studying them. He supposed she had never seen a proper family interact. However, nobody had expected her to lift her head high and, with a stubborn tilt to her chin that reminded him a little of Ginny when she demanded a go on their brooms, she asked Charlie to explain Quidditch to her. Bill reckoned that Charlie had changed his mind about the kid in seconds.

However, during the very dramatic lecture, he saw Violet becoming a little overwhelmed. She looked around for a better place to hide, especially when Ron, with half chewed sausage in his mouth, started shouting about the Canons. Bill edged toward her carefully, keeping a bit of distance between them, before he offered her some help with Quidditch. As she shyly agreed to join him, with Ginny tagging along later when she realised they'd disappeared, Bill noticed that Violet Potter was a very curious girl. The questions did not stop at Quidditch, but the magical world in general. He tried to ask her about the muggle world he learnt about in Muggle Studies, but she grew withdrawn and confused, not even understanding some of the stuff he thought was common in a muggle household. Nevertheless, they struck up a quiet friendship which Violet relied on to make herself feel safe in the Burrow.

Bill could barely imagine leaving her on her own. In fact, he had casually brought up the suggestion of taking a year off from Hogwarts, until Violet was settled. He doubted his Mother had ever turned such a startling shade of red. When Violet realised that he would be leaving soon, she had taken to following him around everywhere. It was very reminiscent of the twins toddling after him when he left for his first year.

Bill thought with Mr Lupin coming over more often and distracting her from his absences, he had to finish his summer homework at some point, after all, that the time away wouldn't hit her as hard. However, the night before he would be leaving for Hogwarts, he felt a little shape tug at his blankets. Blearily opening his eyes, he saw a bright green pair in the moon's light. Sighing quietly, he sat up so he could look at her.

'Did you have a bad dream, Flower?' he asked quietly, even though he knew his Mother often gave her variations of Pleasant Dream potions. She shook her head and bit her lip, a nervous habit she must have picked up from him.

'Can't sleep?' Bill suggested. This time there was a little nod, brief and uncertain.

'You gonna miss me, kid?' he asked with an easy smile but a heavy heart. He knew he would miss her genuine curiosity about everything magic and how she loved to hear his stories about mythology and his favourite curse breakers. He would definitely miss the way she would hide her smile in her shoulder every time he nearly made her laugh. Bill, however, would not miss the way those big green eyes spilled over with tears and grabbed onto his hand tight.

To most people, this would be of little consequence. After all, she was a scared little girl who was going to miss her friend. However, little Violet Potter hated to be touched. She avoided it like the plague, waiting for people to come down the stairs first in fear of crossing, moving her chair away from the table so her arm wouldn't brush against anyone else's. And yet here she was, grabbing his hand and refusing to let go.

It was also the first time Bill Weasley had ever seen Violet cry. Sure, he had seen her sad and scared and anxious, and her eyes had even watered a few times. But never had he witnessed the tears fall from her eyes so fast or saw her chest heave with silent sobs. Unsure what to do, he held open the blankets and held his arms out to her, inviting. It took a moment, what felt like minutes for Bill, but she approached slowly, still sniffling, and finally dove into his arms, burying her head under his chin. Bill hushed her quietly, whispering some of her favourite stories. Violet fell asleep to the story of Adonis, who was slew by a boar he was hunting. The gods loved him so greatly that violets grew from where his blood was shed. Something beautiful blooming from pain.

…

The trip to Platform Nine and Three Quarters was a rushed one within the Weasley household. Percy was struggling to fit the books he borrowed from the library into his pack, alongside all the letters he saved from Penny. Charlie had left his broom in the shed overnight and had only just remembered and Bill was certain that little Violet Potter, who was perfectly ready for the busy day ahead and sitting innocently at the breakfast table, had stolen his Head Boy's badge.

His Mother, of course, had been ecstatic. There had been a party and a promise of a gift, which had been a brand new rune carving stylus. She thought him taking extra interest in his studies and he had no intention of worrying her by admitting to his current career path. However, Bill Weasley would definitely be late to Hogwarts if he couldn't find his pin. Then he might not be allowed to be Head Boy. They might even send him home because of it. Violet didn't necessarily want Bill unhappy, and he was certainly looking a little frazzled, but she definitely didn't want him to go away.

It wasn't fair! He had promised to look after her and keep her safe and he was going, leaving her with the twins, who were menaces and loud and scary. Ron was always moping about something and keeps scowling at her because she doesn't want to play, or learn to play, chess. And Ginny! She has to share a room with her and she's always there and its so different than her sanctuary, her cupboard. Yes, it was dark, but it was just for Violet and no one ever came in but her.

As they had all squeezed into the car, a muggle contraption Violet had never experienced before, she held nervously onto Bill's hand, something Mrs Molly and Mr Arthur noticed. They exchanged looks and Mrs Molly smiled at her really big. The ride was a bit scary and there were lots of people around them, more than Violet had ever seen in her entire life. And the noise! Violet was not enjoying this particular adventure and she wished Bill wouldn't make her do it.

Mr Arthur had decided to take the morning off, offering to stay with Violet whilst Mrs Molly took the children to the station. But then Bill had asked Violet if she would see him off. He hadn't even looked at his parents for permission! His mother had even tried to protest, but Bill knelt down and looked her straight in the eyes.

'I would really like for you to say goodbye to me at the station. You don't have to go, if you don't want to. And if you do go, and change your mind, you can come straight back home. But I want to spend as much time with you before I go back to Hogwarts and I want to see _all_ my family waving me off. That includes you, Violet.'

Well. How could she say no after that? She couldn't let Bill down. So she nodded, looking a few more shades of pale than Bill would have liked. Yet, Violet thought it would be worth it after seeing how big Bill smiled at her. He whispered a quick 'I'm very proud of you and you're so very brave,' and stood up quickly, reaching out a hand to her.

Violet looked at his hand and remembered how it had stroked her back so gently before she fell asleep last night. She had watch it ruffle Ginny's hair and help wash Ron's face and point out all the best hiding places to Fred and George during hide and seek. She didn't think twice before grabbing it and following him out of the door. That, she realised, would be her mistake.

The platform was very loud and there were so many people, she was nearly knocked over many times. Bill had kept her close, his hand wrapped warmly in hers, and led her to the platform.

'This is a very big adventure now, Violet. You have to run through that wall. It's magic, so it will let you through, but you have to be brave enough to go through. Do you think you can do that? Or do you want to wait here?' Bill asked, his face serious, scrunching up at the brow like he did when he was worried.

Violet looked toward the wall. It didn't look particularly dangerous, but then again, she had never been through a magical wall before. Seeing Ron and Ginny grin secretively to one another, she straightened her shoulders and pulled Bill behind her as she headed toward Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She didn't even look back before she walked through, only hearing Bill's proud chuckle and Mrs Molly's tut as she followed after them with her brood.

Seeing the train, sleek and red and so beautifully shiny, was marvelous. Seeing Bill getting onto the train without her was horrendous. Trying not to cry, she waved at him as the rest of Weasleys were doing, for all 3 Weasleys leaving for Hogwarts. Bill must have noticed her tears for he quickly ran off the train, grabbed her in a hug which she swore nearly squished her to death, and then pressed a kiss to her hair.

'Remember, Flower, you are one of the bravest people I know and I promise I will always write, every day if you want.'

'I can't read,' Violet whispered, feeling the distance between them grow despite still being held in his arms.

'Then ask Mr Lupin to help you, or Fred and George. I'll be home soon. But I promise you, Violet, I'll think about my brave little flower every day at school. Okay? Don't forget me.' With another kiss to her head, the whistle blew and he was gone.

…

Violet had rushed to her and Ginny's room the moment they had returned from the train station. Bill wouldn't be back till Christmas and Violet was scared. Bill was the best at explaining everything and she stopped her scratching her arms whenever she was nervous. He also was the best at stopping all of the other children from being too loud and rowdy. And he was gone! She felt lonelier than ever before. At least at the Dursley's, she had never known friendship. To know he had left willingly made her heart hurt.

A few tears slipped down her face and she heard Ginny coming up the stairs toward their room. She didn't want Ginny to see her cry. She was meant to be a hero. She was meant to be brave. Looking toward the door, she stared at it hard, forcing it to stay shut. She pushed and pushed with her mind until she heard the door handle start to turn. But the door never opened. After a few minutes of tugging, Ginny gave up and ran up to Ron's room in the attic. Violet listened carefully as Ron offered her a few comics and then it was quiet. Well, as quiet as the Weasley house would ever get.

In the quiet of the room, she closed her eyes and lay there, not sleeping, but dozing. It was then she heard a whisper. It was the same whisper that she heard in her dreams sometimes, soft and crooning. It called her special. It called her friend. It said she could never be lonely because it was always right there. It was less of a presence and more of a feeling, heavy yet comforting, like the big quilt in Bill's bedroom, and his arms around her telling her about Adonis' violets. With a sigh, she got up and opened the door, missing her first friend.

Quietly, she trailed to his room and nudged open the door with her foot. Peering in, she noticed it seemed especially empty without Bill inside. Tears starting to form once more, she wiped them away messily, walking towards his bed. As she fell into it, she heard the feeling, the wonderfully heavy and warm feeling, telling her to sleep. She wasn't alone, really, not at all.

* * *

 **AN:** Well, Bill's left for Hogwarts and I may have promised some Lupin interaction, but this chapter kind of got away from me. However, _the thing_ (I'm sure we've all guessed what it is) is getting stronger. I wonder what our hero will do?

 **Preview of the next chapter -**

'You knew my parents?' Violet asked. She was curious about Lily and James Potter, but she could not say she missed them. After all, she had no memory of them. It was a more academic curiosity, where had she come from? Was she special, like everyone said, was she a hero because they were too?

'I was good friends with both Lily and James,' Mr Lupin said. 'They were some of the best and bravest people I knew.'

'Yes, but why?' She questioned, brow furrowed.

'I don't understand, Violet, why what?'

'Why were they brave? Why did they fight?'


	6. Chapter 5

The days got colder and winter had officially hit the Burrow. The wind and rain had made it too dangerous to play Quidditch or to play outside and, as a result, everyone was squished inside the house. Violet, who had soon grown used to the freedom of the gardens, was not happy. Not at all.

With frequent lessons from Mr Lupin, she had slowly, haltingly, learnt to read. He had encouraged her often, praising her and how fast she was picking it up. Violet didn't feel like she was learning very fast, but how was she to know what was fast or not? All the Weasley's knew how to read and write, even if Ginny's letters were misspelt and large and Ron's reading was sometimes all muddled up. They just knew and Violet wanted to catch up to them all very quickly. So she did.

It was strange, learning to read. It wasn't as difficult as she assumed, it was almost like she had known how to do it, once before, and just needed to remind herself how it was done. Her letters definitely needed practice when she tried to write, but the quill was a clumsy instrument and was much too large for her very small hands.

There were two reasons she kept up her practice. The first being Bill. Bill had taken to writing to her every day. Every morning, a new owl would arrive bearing a quick note or, at the end of the week, a long, detailed letter with lots of pictures and colours. Some letters even had Violets pressed between the pages. He used very simple words, to start, and he wrote in big, neat letters so she could read along. He told her all about Hogwarts, about the teachers and the lessons and the castle. Bill also sent letters home for his brothers and sister and they too had agreed that they could hardly wait to go to Hogwarts.

The next reason she practiced her reading so diligently, perhaps the most pressing reason, was that she was learning lots of new information. Information that an adult hadn't told her, information that they withheld if they believed a little girl shouldn't know. Like the war, for example. Violet knew she had helped save everyone by defeating Voldemort when she was a baby. She had heard Ginny ask for the story before bed on many nights. But Violet didn't understand what the war was about. She didn't understand why the Dark Lord had come after her. Sure, she was meant to grow up to be a hero, but she didn't think she was one yet. She was Violet, just Violet.

Most of the autumn and winter had been spent hiding in Bill's room, with her new books that Mr Lupin had brought from the British Magical Library. Apparently, this was a place filled with nothing but books and Violet thought it would be amazing to visit. However, after the awful experience of going to the platform in September, Violet was in no rush to repeat an adventure outside of the Burrow.

Mr Lupin was a very clever man and he knew almost all the answers to her questions. He always looked tired and his robes were not the smartest, but she too had to wear second hand clothes and jumpers which used to be Ron's. She had even smuggled one of Bill's jumpers from when he was very small from Fred and George's cupboard and they hadn't asked for it back yet, which meant she could keep it. Right? She loved to sit up near the window, watching the rain and carefully balance a cup of tea between her hands, which were covered by the fraying sleeves of her new jumper. Mrs Molly would offer to cast a few spells to make it fit better, but Violet refused every time.

Lupiin would often find her there in the mornings and sit with her a while before calling down the others for morning lessons. They had a long break at noon for lunch and play, although Violet was pretty sure Lupin just wanted to chat with Mrs Molly. Then they'd pick up lessons again for a bit, which wasn't always reading and writing. Sometimes, Mr Lupin had them play games to help them remember certain things. Violet's favourite time, however, was when Mr Lupin let everyone else go and play and took her aside. It was then she could ask all the questions which were bubbling in her mind. Like why was the alphabet in order when words never use that order? Or why do the Ministry of Magic stop children from learning magic till Hogwarts?

That was the question Violet came up with most often. She had heard bits from their history lessons, smoothed over for an audience of children. However, Violet loved magic. She could feel her magic inside of her now, not like when she was at the Dursleys. She could feel it grow warm like the summer's sun against her skin when she was particularly happy, usually when Bill's letters arrived or she had solved a particularly hard puzzle or reading piece from Mr Lupin. She felt her magic grow cold and static when someone startled her too badly or they tried to touch her or yell out to her. She knew her magic was within her and she knew it could keep her safe.

So Violet was very disappointed she wasn't allowed a stick, _a wand,_ to start practicing magic. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't practice without. After all, she had watched her magic play havoc with the living room quite often, much to Mrs Molly's frustration. She didn't need a stick to do magic. She was special, just like the feeling always said.

…

Molly Weasley was always busy. She was used to a loud and busy home, with children running to and from and there always being some argument or hurt feelings to soothe. There was always a lot of hungry mouths to feed and a lot of mucky clothes to wash. Even with magic, Molly Weasley was always busy.

When Albus Dumbledore had turned up on her doorstep on a cool Autumn night, she had been shocked. Curled up in his arms was a waif of a girl, pale and thin, with dark shadows beneath her closed eyes. Her hand was latched onto his beard and the small wrist looked like it could snap at any moment it was so frail. To say Molly Weasley was confused would be accurate. Opening her door wide, she had not even considered the strange circumstances of the headmaster's visit. As she heard more, she did not think it strange that the headmaster had chosen her family to look after the little Girl-Who-Lived. After all, they were a large and happy family, what better setting to raise a child.

She had not even thought about why it was only after obvious years of abuse did Dumbledore decide to change her living circumstance. He muggles must be very crafty indeed to get around the defences Albus Dumbledore put into place. I mean, of course the headmaster wouldn't leave the girl undefended.

So Molly Weasley, with a mother's heart, had agreed to raise this little girl alongside her own. Arthur had looked uncertain for a while, concerned about the issues that came with overcoming years, a near lifetime, of abuse. However, Molly was confident in her ability as a mother and would ensure that Violet Potter would prosper at the Burrow and grow into a good and brave Gryffindor, just like her parents.

She had carefully explained the circumstances of Violet's arrival to the children, the youngest being told a tale that her muggle relatives were not very nice and didn't like all of Violet's accidental magic, thinking it best to leave Violet with a magical family. The three oldest were told a version closer to the truth. They were told that Violet Potter was a very damaged little girl and it was there job to make her feel safe and make her part of the family. They were told about how she had been kept in a cupboard for most of her life with very little food. They were also told it was there responsibility to make sure Violet felt comfortable and if they needed to rein in the more … boisterous … children, then do so.

Molly was sure the Violet would fit right in after she got over her nerves. When she had woken up the next morning and discussed what had occurred, they had been shocked to find out she knew nothing about magic. Well, Molly had thought, that was about to change.

When they told her about her parents, carefully, mind you, she had saw the little girl crumble and wilt. Molly, with her mother's heart and family instinct, grabbed the girl into her arms. She was, of course, not expecting the violent magical backlash to occur. The damage was easily fixed, but Violet had never looked more startled. Surely the girl had displayed accidental magic before; Albus had explained the cause of Violet's removal to them and confirmed her magical ability was too dangerous to leave unchecked in the muggle world. Perhaps she had not experienced magic on that level. Molly, though, had taken it in her stride and continued to feed the girl up and always made herself available to her, if she ever needed anything.

It was a shock to everyone at how quickly the girl seemed to take to Bill. After all, Bill, who would turn 17 in the November, was the tallest of the Weasleys, so far, and cut an intimidating figure, being built solidly from years of quidditch. However, the little girl gave no thought to his size or strength and would follow him around for hours, asking any question that came to mind, usually in a very quiet whisper. Poor Ginny had seemed quite lost with her hero taking the attention from her favourite hero, but if she had to share, at least it was with Violet Potter.

Currently, Molly was stood in the doorway of Bill's bedroom, which was usually left empty during the term time. However, buried underneath a lumpy jumper and a quite large, patchwork quilt, was a little girl. With curl black hair, which made her stand out from her original brood, Violet Potter was easily noticed. No matter how quiet and still she was, you always found her at the corner of your eye. Yet, she had been missing for hours and Remus was due to arrive at any minute.

Watching the girl sleep, curled around a lopsided lion toy Molly had quickly knitted for her, Molly didn't have the heart to wake her. She knew she was missing her eldest, saw it in the lost way she wondered around the house, always climbing into 'his' seat at the dinner table before anyone else got a chance. The poor girl.

But then, the lump under the quilt moved a little. Thinking she was about to wake, Molly turned her thoughtful frown into a gentle smile. Yet, the girl moved some more and whispered to herself, giggling slightly. Molly rolled her eyes, having been fooled by the child's attempt to pretend sleep. About to knock on the door frame, Molly froze as she looked back toward the bed.

The quilt, it seemed, was … well, it was levitating. Which couldn't be right. And, as it moved away from the bed, Molly couldn't see Violet's body resting on the mattress. Yet she could still hear her muttering to herself. The moment passed quickly, watching the child and blanket stay raised in the air, until Violet sneezed. Dropping onto the bed suddenly, with the quilt falling atop of her, she bounced lightly and giggled to herself once more.

Molly, shocked at the display, didn't know what to do. She would send a letter to the headmaster and perhaps a quick word with Remus would help. Turning from the doorway, she looked back one last time at the lump in the middle of the bed and went back downstairs. Perhaps she could just call the children down for lessons instead of fetching them.

…

Remus Lupin considered himself to be very lucky compared to some Werewolves. He got to have an education at one of Europe's leading magical academies. He also had grown up with both his parents and their love and support, alongside a group of loyal friends. And even after the war, after the betrayal and grief, he was still alive and was currently employed by the headmaster of Hogwarts. And this was where Remus Lupin knew he was definitely lucky. He had been employed to teach and tutor James' and Lily's little girl, who he thought he would never see again.

Little was the right word, for when he came face to face with Violet, she was dwarfed by the eldest Weasley lad and hiding behind him. Wearing a faded quidditch jersey, one that was much too big and fell over her hands, Violet Potter looked especially tiny. Lupin's heart had melted then and there.

'She's quite delicate,' Molly had warned, 'had an awful experience with those muggles, and she startles so very easily. I'd avoid any physical contact unless she initiates it, which is unlikely. She also doesn't like shouting very much and if she needs some space, its best to just let her walk away.'

Remus, after hearing of her treatment at the Durselys, was furious. He was just glad that Professor Dumbledore had rescued her and allowed him the opportunity to watch her grow, as Lily and James would never get to do.

Their first lesson together was underwhelming. The girl had never attended a day of school in her life and what little she knew of the alphabet, she had learnt from over hearing her cousin and Aunt. That is not to say Violet Potter was stupid or slow. Violet was a very quick little girl, who caught on to things a lot faster than Remus thought was possible. She had caught up to Ron's ability within a month, although Ron himself was behind most of his age group.

When it came to numbers, Violet, was having the concept explained to her, could solve nearly every problem put in front of her. It was not quick, but she never gave up and Remus was convinced he saw Lily's stubborn gleam in her eye.

What was perhaps the most disconcerting part of meeting Violet Potter, was her looks. With Lily's eyes and James' curly and messy hair, she was undoubtedly her parent's child. However, there was definitely more than a fair share of Dorea Potter nee Black in Violet and by Merlin, she didn't half remind him of Sirius. His chest tightened in pain as he remembered his best friend, the coward who betrayed them to the Dark Lord. He still had a hard time getting his head around what had happened, still could hardly believe the Sirius he knew as a boy, who vehemently denied the Dark Arts, would turn on his friends, on his _brother._ Best to put those thoughts to the back of his mind. He was rotting in Azkaban, as he rightly deserved, and Remus was here with James' daughter, teaching her everything that her parents couldn't.

The months passed and Violet became more comfortable with Remus' presence. She was still very withdrawn, especially as Bill had left for Hogwarts, but that seemed to turn her mind and focus toward studying. He could hardly deny her knowledge and so tried to answer every question she asked. However, Violet Potter had a habit of asking particularly difficult questions.

…

'You knew my parents?' Violet asked. She was curious about Lily and James Potter, but she could not say she missed them. After all, she had no memory of them. It was a more academic curiosity, where had she come from? Was she special, like everyone said, was she a hero because they were too?

'I was good friend with both Lily and James,' Mr Lupin said. 'They were some of the best and bravest people knew.'

'Yes, but why?' She questioned, brow furrowed.

'I don't understand, Violet, why what?'

'Why were they brave? Why did they fight?'

Now, to anyone else, the answer would be easy. They were fighting a very bad man and for a safe world for their daughter to grow up in. However, Remus Lupin was no ordinary man. He was a man who had lost nearly everything in the war and all that remained of his friend's was Violet. Therefore, he gave the question more thought.

'Bravery, at the end of the day, is just facing your fears. I cannot possibly say _why_ they were brave, perhaps they believed their fear of Lord Voldemort was easily overcome if they could help people and save lives. As for why they were fighting, Lord Voldemort …' Lupin had refused to call him You-Know-Who like the Weasleys did. In fact, it was Ginny who whispered his name in her ear before bed one night, just so she would know. '…Lord Voldemort was a very bad man who believed that magical children born from muggles were unworthy of magic. He believed, along with a lot of others, that muggles are inferior to wizards just because they don't have magic. Now Lily was a muggleborn, and very proud of her heritage too. She would always be in danger from Voldemort's forces.'

'So, she was forced to fight? If she didn't, they'd still come after her?' Violet asked.

'I suppose that has something to do with it. But Violet, you must know that both of your parents were very good people and they could not bear to see so many people hurt and killed. If they had the power and the ability to help, they felt they should use it.'

Violet did not agree with this premise. Not at all. In her experience, it was easier to hide away and stay unnoticed until the person doing the hurting sought you out.

' _They were stupid',_ a quiet voice in the back of her mind spoke, ' _to fight a war where they knew they could die, leaving you all alone'._ Violet was getting upset now, her parents had obviously believed that fighting Lord Voldemort was important. But, in doing so, they risked leaving her behind. Yet they still fought.

' _I'll never leave you, my special girl. I'm always here.'_

Ever since Bill had left to Hogwarts and Violet had begun practicing her magic in secret, the feeling she had come to recognise and rely on had started speaking to her. She didn't know what it was, but it felt very much like her magic so she assumed it was that. After all, her magic would never leave, couldn't exist without her. And Violet knew from experience her magic wasn't just a tool to get things done. She could feel it as it worked. It felt what Violet felt, got angry and sad and scared. She was glad she had her magic, it kept her safe.

Lupin had carried on with more stories about her parents, but Violet wasn't listening. She was too busy thinking about her magic.

* * *

 **AN:** So, what do we think? I'll be having a time skip for the next chapter, probably moving on to the summer before Ron and Violet begin Hogwarts.

 **Preview for the next chapter –**

Violet Potter knew she was a very special little girl and she knew that Hogwarts was where she was meant to be. That didn't however, make her any less nervous the weeks before she was set to arrive. Bill had returned from his current job in Egypt to see her off, just as she had done for him all those years ago, Charlie was busy in Romania so she wouldn't see him before she left, but he had sent a letter and lovely little bracelet made of coloured strings to wish her luck.

After years of tutoring and frequent, if wary, trips to the library, Violet was more than prepared. Hogwarts had better watch out.


	7. Chapter 6

It had been four years since Violet had been delivered to the Weasley house in the cloak of darkness. Four years of family and laughter and learning. Yet, for all the fondness and affection she had come to possess for the Weasleys, she could not say she was ever comfortable or at home at their table. As she grew older, as she grew into her magic and her intelligence, she began to understand there was something fundamentally different between herself and the Weasleys, and it wasn't their hair.

Violet had always been eager to learn more, absorbing knowledge and books the way a starving man would feast. It was not just magic she studied either. Whilst she was limited in her magical studies until she could purchase a wand, she could research who newest obsession without any restrictions. People.

People's actions and feelings had confused Violet. She had problems understanding other's facial expressions or why certain behaviours made them uncomfortable. But Violet also knew, experienced first-hand, the damage that people can inflict on others. She needed to know the nature of people to be prepared. She would never let another hurt her, or her magic, again. So, every outing, every opportunity to watch people interact, she did. And she did it well. Soon, she could predict by the slightest crease under the eye that a man was getting nervous. She could tell by the clenching of a fist whether someone was anxious or violent. Violet believed she was prepared to see the world and live in it. Life at the Weasleys was not truly experiencing the world. She was kept comfortable, but caged. They treated her like a delicate flower who could not look after herself. She allowed them to keep that opinion of her.

In the next few days, she and Ron would be leaving to start their first year of Hogwarts. Violet would much prefer Ginny to Ron's company, as Ginny was more likeable in spirit and behaviour. Plus, but Ron did not like Violet. Not one bit. She had soon excelled in classes, leaving him far behind. On a broom she was unmatched, though she had neither the patience or desire to play Quidditch. Furthermore, she hated chess. With a passion. It is not surprising that the two were more than likely to butt heads.

Violet Potter knew she was a very special little girl and she knew that Hogwarts was where she was meant to be. That didn't however, make her any less nervous the weeks before she was set to arrive. Bill had returned from his current job in Egypt to see her off, just as she had done for him all those years ago, Charlie was busy in Romania so she wouldn't see him before she left, but he had sent a letter and lovely little bracelet made of coloured strings to wish her luck.

After years of tutoring and frequent, if wary, trips to the library, Violet was more than prepared. Yet, she was both excited and nervous to meet Professor Albus Dumbledore. Her books had showed her his frequent and impressive achievements and the Weasley parents often reminded Violet that it was Dumbledore who saved her from her relatives. However, Violet wondered why she was there in the first place and why Dumbledore had the authority to take her away. She had never asked these questions, for it was a common consensus that Albus Dumbledore was a great man, one of the best alive.

That is not to say that Violet did not like him. After all, she had no memory of meeting the man. She believed he was everything she should aspire to be. She was to be a hero. She had already defeated the Dark Lord once and she should be prepared to face Dark Magic again, to keep everyone safe. It was her duty, her responsibility, to save people who couldn't save themselves. Violet didn't exactly have any great enthusiasm to do so. She cared little about people in the broad scale of things, especially if they didn't affect or interact with her.

It is safe to say that Violet had very mixed feelings about Hogwarts and currently, she was trying to say goodbye to Mr Lupin, who would not be able to see her off. She supposed she was a little upset as Mr Lupin had been a very important part of her life. He had given her the tools and knowledge she needed to become strong enough to protect herself. He had also provided gentle encouragement and praise in everything she set her mind too and, when she felt like asking, told her various stories about her parents. Her favourites were the Marauders. She had heard Fred and George tell tales of their pranks at the school and Violet didn't see the harm in them. It was just another display of her magical ability whilst providing some entertainment. She was excited to try out some of her own ideas.

Looking up at Mr Lupin, he had a tear in his eye. As he knelt on the ground, looking into her eyes (although she was on a strict regime of nutrition potions, she was still rather small), he brushed a wayward curl from her face.

'I wish you all the luck for Hogwarts, Violet. If you ever need me, I am only an owl away,' he whispered.

'I think I'll miss you very much, Mr Lupin.' Violet knew this to be true, for no other teacher could compare to Lupin's enthusiasm and gentle nature. He smiled at her then, one of widest she had seen from him.

'Now I am no longer your tutor, you can call me Remus,' he suggested, pulling her slowly, haltingly, into a hug. She did not resist and buried her face into his cloak. It smelt of old books and the forest and she knew she's never forget the scent. 'I'll miss you too, Flower.' Pulling away, he ruffled her hair, stood up and walked toward the door. A quick goodbye to Molly and Arthur and he was gone.

Violet rather thought she'd prefer not to go to Hogwarts and for things to stay exactly as they had been. Or for Mr Lup– Remus - to whisk her away and become her guardian, maybe staying in a quiet little cottage, with very few neighbours. Startled from her thoughts by Bill's hand on her shoulder, she turned into him and let him drag her up to her room (she had stolen Bill's as soon as he had moved out for his first job).

…

Albus Dumbledore was preparing for the arrival of the students. This year was a very special year as one Miss Violet Potter would be attending. Looking through the weekly reports from Molly, he smiled slightly to himself. He had definitely made the right decision in placing her with the Weasley family.

A quiet and studious little girl, he would hardly call her the Gryffindor hero he was expecting. But Molly had assured him that she would not stand to see anyone bully anyone weaker than them, the Luna Lovegood girl seemed to have made a protector for life when she was being attacked by some boys in town. Violet had come to her defence without even thinking about the consequences, Molly had said. Acting recklessly to save another, now that was a quality Albus Dumbledore was happy to see.

With a flourish of his wand, he removed the philosopher's stone from a box in his desk draw. Well, a replica of the stone, to be precise. Studying the object, he could not help but feel guilty for what he had planned. He needed proof of Voldemort's continued survival. He needed to draw him into the open. He needed bait. The stone was indeed the perfect bait but not worth the risk of exposure. No, Violet had to be within Hogwarts to draw Voldemort near.

It was only recently, after he had learned of the Lovegood incident, that he had decided to test the girl. It was definitely within his power to protect the stone, fake or not. However, he had come up with an elaborate obstacle course for her to overcome. Let her test her bravery, her courage. Of course, he would drop the relevant hints throughout the year and just before summer, it would all come to head. Voldemort and Violet would meet once again. Then he could analyse the meeting and strategize the best course of action for the coming war.

And if Violet died during this encounter. Well. It was for the greater good.

…

As Violet slept, Bill's soft snores lulling her to slumber from across the room, she dreamt. They were such wonderful dreams of the castle, as if she had already walked its halls and explored every nook. But there was something different about this dream. Her footsteps sounded different from her own, heavier almost. And her body felt stranger. Was she taller? Looking down, she noticed the Slytherin colours on her robes and wondered how everyone would react. How would Bill and Remus react? As she dreamed, the feeling, _her friend,_ was warm and content. After all, it was going home.

* * *

 **AN:** Bit of a short one, but we're finally on our way to first year. This fic will be following the timeline of the original series, but it will come about quite differently from what we expect of Harry Potter.

 **Preview of the next chapter –**

Everyone was staring and Violet was uncomfortable. She shifted slightly on the bench and looked down toward her plate, contemplating on whether she should put food on it, even though no one else was moving. She sighed to herself. This was going to be a long seven years.


End file.
